I have always had a hard time calling my elders by their first name. Some people in my life will always be Mr. or Mrs. That’s just the way it is — can’t help it. Even though I’m now Mrs…to those younger than me, I cannot bring myself to call certain people in my life by their “familiar” name.
I thought about that these past couple of days when another loss brought me in close contact with a special group of people from my past — my home pastor, my Sunday School teachers, my choir directors — the people the Lord has used in my life to make me who I am today. It’s not just that I can’t call them by their first names…I immediately become that young girl again in their presence. They don’t put me there for sure, but all I have to hear is them call my name or give me a hug, and I’m gone — gone back to a time in my life that was simple and sweet and full of affirmation and love.
Does it hurt or help to experience this time travel? Today, as I sat in familiar pews, surrounded by familiar faces, singing familiar hymns, it brought comfort and peace. I remembered those special days and heritage with thankfulness. Yet, as I have to continually watch those who loved me grow old and weary in their earthly temples, it also hurts, knowing that I’ll never have those days again, no strong saints to mentor me and keep me grounded.
Then He does it — He reminds me to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. My youthful days with such a godly group of adults was truly a blessing few can call their own; I need to give Him thanks always for those He used in my life. But part of growing up is picking up that mantel others have laid down. I’ve done that in so many ways already…I know it.
Sometimes, I just don’t want to grow up.
Grace and Peace